Coping Mechanisms
by Ultrawoman
Summary: One-Shot. post-The Maltese Falcon Job. Everyone has their own way of coping when things turn bad; Eliot and Parker share theirs.


**A/N: This started out as two random E/P scenes that just appeared in my head. I got talking to my friends on Twitter and LJ about it and they suggested writing down what I had and then either posting or waiting til I can make it into a real fic and thne posting. If not for those people this fic might never have made it out of my head onto the page, nevermind the internet! lol That could either be seen as a good thing or a bad thing - let me know which you think it is ;)**

_**(Disclaimer: Characters from Leverage belong to John Rogers, Chris Downey, and other important people that aren't me.)**_

Coping Mechanisms

Eliot ought to be sleeping. After the stress of the past weeks events, after the trauma his body had suffered, he really needed the rest, but it kind of wasn't happening. After a half hour of staring at the bedroom ceiling, he really wanted to give up and go do something else, mostly because he was going to drown with the thoughts in his head if he stayed here like this.

Everything was kind of a mess, not least because Nate was in the hospital, waiting to be transferred to jail just as soon as his bullet wound was healed enough. The team never coped well when one of the wheels came loose. Missing Sophie had been tough enough, and they were pretty sure she was always coming back some day. This was different, this was serious, and Eliot wasn't sure yet how they were all going to deal.

A knock on the door was both a welcome distraction and a reason to worry. Nobody really knew where Eliot lived, at least he was pretty sure they didn't, and it was too late at night for strangers to come calling, unless their business was the nefarious kind. Armed with his trusty knife and with his wits about him, he moved stealthily out of his room, wearing nothing but T-shirt and boxers, and headed for the door. He got a bigger surprise than he ever could have expected when he opened it up.

"Parker?" he frowned at the blonde ponytail facing him, immediately hiding the weapon he'd been holding before she turned around.

"Hey!" she replied, with far too much excitement and a smile too wide for her face. "It's Eliot!" she yelled with apparent glee, flinging her arms around the startled hitter.

This was not Parker. Well, it was her in a literal sense, but this was far removed from the way she usually behaved. Hugging was a no-no on any normal day. She had to be drugged, just saved from mortal danger, extremely sugar-high, or...

"Great, you're drunk," Eliot muttered as he realised a distinct smell of scotch had floated into the apartment with the thief.

"Noooo," Parker protested as she disentangled herself from his arms and literally spun a twirl right through the living room. "I like your apartment, it feels just like you," she giggled, spinning circles whilst looking up towards the ceiling.

Eliot couldn't help but smile a little at her strangely childish joy, and then remembered she was drunk and spinning. That couldn't end well.

"Parker..." he was about to tell her to stop when she did so anyway, lurching suddenly to the side, thankfully landing on the couch and not the floor.

"Ooh, I don't feel so good," she complained, at which Eliot rolled her eyes.

"Big surprise there," he sighed as he closed the door and wandered over to her, crouching down by the couch she was laying all over. "Why'd you drink so much in the first place?" he asked, less accusing and more just curious as he reached out to push loose hair off her face without even thinking about it.

"I dunno" she shrugged awkwardly, and swallowed hard for good measure. "It kinda works for Nate," she slurred.

Eliot didn't know what to say to that. To him, the leader of the team was both mastermind and friend, but to Parker he was just that little bit more. He was pretty much the Daddy she never really had, just like Sophie was her Momma. She hadn't coped so good when the grifter went away for a while, she was really not going to handle Nate's arrest well at all. Eliot felt bad. He should've seen this coming, should've kept a better eye on the little thief, because apparently this was what became of her when he didn't.

"You gonna be okay?" he checked, as he watched her expression shift into worry and her complexion go ever more green. "Oh, damn," he reacted quickly when he realised where they were headed.

Parker barely realised what was happening as Eliot lifted her easily off the couch and rushed into the bathroom, getting her head over the toilet with seconds to spare. It wasn't the greatest way to spend a half hour, watching and hearing a woman heave up her guts, but honestly, Eliot didn't mind so much. Parker needed someone to be there for her, and he didn't mind being that someone. These days he minded less and less actually, even when she was drunk and puking.

After she was done being ill, he helped her get cleaned up, then went off to the kitchen to find her some water and dry crackers. She needed to be hydrated, her stomach needed settling, and nobody knew better about that than Eliot. He'd done his fair share of drunk over the years, yes sir, he had. There were some things you just didn't learn to stop doing, even after a bad experience like this. He hoped maybe Parker was smarter than him on that score.

When he came back to the living room, Parker wasn't there, neither was she back in the bathroom, and that was at least a relief. Honestly, Eliot half wondered if she left altogether, when he suddenly realised his bedroom door was further open than it had been before.

"Parker, what are you doin'?" he asked her as he found her laying in his own bed, shoes off but still dressed in everything else she'd had on before.

"Make it stop," she moaned from beneath the covers. "Eliot, I feel awful" she admitted, and he wasn't entirely surprised.

"Well, maybe this'll teach you not to drink til you can't stand up straight," he told her mock-sternly as he perched on the edge of the bed beside her and encouraged her to sit up some. "Here. Eat and drink," he advised, watching and waiting until she'd done as she was told.

The woman needed to be taken care of. She needed some sort of combination parent and boyfriend, Eliot reckoned, if she was ever going to be truly safe and happy. It occurred to him that was just exactly the role he would be falling into himself if he wasn't careful, and immediately forced such stupid thoughts out of his head. Parker and him was a bad plan from the get go, and he was not getting into that territory with her at all.

When she was done eating and drank all her water, she leaned back against the headboard and closed her eyes. She still felt bad, he knew she did, and would continue to for a while yet, but there wasn't much Eliot could do about that. Fact was she probably felt pretty crappy before the scotch, that was why she started drinking it. She copied Nate's example to forget the man himself, forget that she had to be without him too long and stop worrying that her team, her family, might fall apart. Eliot knew her fears without ever asking because they existed inside him too, he just had other ways of dealing.

"Best thing I can do for you, babe, is tell you to sleep this thing off," he advised, not as surprised as he should've been when she nodded her head and pushed herself further under the covers of his bed.

This was not good. She couldn't sleep with him, not that they'd be sleeping together in any kind of sexual way, just literally sleeping. Still, Eliot wasn't sure it'd be the best thing if he stayed right now. He had a spare room, it was no big deal. He could take Parker there or go himself, but the moment he got up from he edge of the bed her hand clamped onto his arm and wouldn't leave go.

"You have to stay," she told him, a shake in her voice that he wouldn't have expected, but her were eyes still closed tight when he looked at her. "Everything will be okay, if you're here," she explained, and Eliot didn't know what he was supposed to say to that.

In the end he didn't say anything, just encouraged Parker to move over and climbed in beside her. She kept her distance on the other side of the bed and he made no attempt to touch her or hold her. If she wanted that, she'd ask, or just make it clear, that was Parker's way. As it was, her hand just moved down his arm to find his fingers and entwine them with her own.

"Good night, Eliot," she sighed sleepily, letting slumber take her now.

"G'night, Parker," he replied as he turned out the bedside lamp and finally found sleep himself.

* * *

Eliot always got up fairly early anyway, but this morning was one of those times when he actually rose with the sun, not wanting to waste a minute of the day. He had done his best not to disturb Parker when he got out of bed, and was a little surprised when she stayed asleep. He wondered if she was faking but doubted she'd be one to play games that way, since it wasn't usually her style. Chances were good the booze and its after-effects were knocking her usual hyper-awareness out of whack and her routine of rising almost as early as he did.

The day seemed brighter today somehow, the morning sun held more warmth than previously, and Eliot wasn't seeing such a gloomy outlook on the horizon. He almost laughed at himself when he thought that maybe having Parker here had helped him sleep better and even feel better about the team's situation. That was crazy, just her presence in his apartment couldn't change everything so much, but it seemed to. Maybe it was just knowing he wasn't the only one feeling bad about Nate. Maybe it was just knowing he had helped someone else in some small way that had improved his mood. Either way, he felt good this morning, and he was going to make the most of it.

Half way through his usual work-out in his own mini-gym, Eliot suddenly realised he had an audience of one to his karate moves. He turned to see Parker framed in the doorway, stretching her arms over her head.

"Mornin,' sleepyhead," he greeted her with a smile. "How're you feeling?"

"Not so bad," she shrugged."Kinda thirsty," she admitted as she wandered further into the room.

"Then you're lucky," Eliot told her, tossing a bottle of water into her hands.

She caught it easily and came to sit down cross-legged on the mats, expecting him to join her, which he did. They sat in companionable silence a while, sipping at their water, Parker's eyes scanning the room, checking out the equipment from the punch bag to the free weights and all. She liked this room, it was very Eliot.

"You were wrong," she said out of the blue, almost succeeding in startling her friend, but not quite. "It's not better in the morning, it's just the same," she shrugged her shoulders. "Drinking didn't help... but hitting people works for you, right?" she said, her head tilted to one side as she looked at him through the clear plastic of her water bottle. "Makes you feel better when you're upset?"

"Sometimes," Eliot admitted with a nod of his head, and was again almost surprised when Parker suddenly leapt to her feet, throwing aside both her water and the sweatshirt she had been wearing.

"Let's do it," she declared, stretching out her body while she waited for Eliot to get up off the floor. "I haven't practised my self-defence stuff in forever anyway," she recalled.

Eliot almost argued with her. He really didn't want her using violence to feel better, that wasn't exactly a healthy way to be, even if it was his own coping mechanism a not small part of the time. Still, she was right, she could use a little practice on the techniques he taught her too long ago. Besides, he'd rather her be wailing on him than on some innocent bystander that wouldn't know why or how to handle it.

When she asked him to come at her, he did it. They went through various moves he knew she could handle, and her muscle memory helped her react in exactly the right way each and every time. It was like a dance between them, each punch that deliberately didn't connect, each time they swung each other around and back by an arm or a leg. They were perfectly in time and perfectly matched, though both were aware that it was only because he was going easy on her, and had been the one to teach her almost everything she knew.

One of them stopped concentrating, and Parker knew it was her. Eliot didn't lose concentration when he fought, and was even more careful with her, she was sure, since he never did hurt her, not even accidentally. It had to be her messing up that led to them toppling over. His weight on top of her would doubtless have done her harm, but Eliot kept a tight hold of Parker and managed to flip her on top before they ever hit the mats.

Parker was breathless as she moved to get up and then suddenly realised she kind of didn't want to. She didn't think much about what she was doing as her eyes met Eliot's own and then suddenly she was kissing him. It wasn't why she had come here or what she had planned when they started sparring, it just kind of happened, and boy, did it feel good.

Eliot knew this was a bad idea the moment he met Parker's eyes and saw lust within them. He should have stopped her before she started, but now it felt too late and too good to just let it end. His hands ran down her body that moved on top of him in such a way as to make him lose his mind. Her own fingers were tangled in his hair as she kissed him in a way he wouldn't have imagined she even knew about until now.

They were lost in a moment neither cared to get out of for a minute or two, and then suddenly Eliot yelped and broke the kiss.

"Dammit, Parker!" he complained, realising her watch was caught in his hair.

"Ooh, sorry," she apologised, yanking her wrist until finally it came free.

She rolled off Eliot and was almost immediately in fits of giggles on the mats beside him. He meant to tell her it wasn't funny, and yet her own laughter seemed infectious and before long he was joining in along with her. There they lay on the mats, laughing like two crazy kids for quite some time.

"That was weird," she declared when she could finally find her voice again.

"Weird?" echoed Eliot, just a little offended by what she might mean.

"Well, yeah," Parker shrugged awkwardly against the mats. "I mean, not that kissing you felt weird in a bad way, but... I don't why we did that," she admitted as she turned her head to look at him and found Eliot was looking right back.

"Me either," he agreed, as they both smiled.

It was odd that they ended up in such a clinch, and yet could now lie here in the same companionable silence the two of them had always favoured when alone. There was no awkwardness and no pressure. It was all just okay.

"Eliot?" she said after a while, the two of them still on their backs and staring at the ceiling again now without caring enough to move.

"Yes, Parker," he replied, unflinching.

"Can we have pancakes for breakfast?" she asked, turning on her side and propping her head on her elbow.

Eliot mirrored her movement and smiled.

"We can have anything you want, sweetheart," he assured her, dropping a kiss on the end of her nose before suddenly hopping to his feet and offering her a hand up.

Parker followed Eliot to the kitchen with a grin on her face and a spring in her step she wondered if she'd ever get back until now. No matter what happened next, they were going to be okay. That was all either of them needed to know right now.

The End


End file.
